Something to Believe In

The first two lines caught my attention when I was looking through my song list, and it just went from there.

This is not a happy story. It happens some time after ShinRa's war with Wutai, but before AVALANCHE comes along - though this might be AU. The characters aren't anyone specific from the game's storyline.

'Something to Believe In', by Poison

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Well I see him on the TV
Preachin' 'bout the promised land
He tells me to believe in Jesus
And steals the money from my hand
Some say he was a good man
But lord I think he sinned, yeah

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I stare at the screen through the glass of the shop. I can see the President's lips moving, and though I can't hear what he's saying, I know. It was the same thing every day - 'Trust in ShinRa, we will lead you to the Promised Land. Mako is good, SOLDIER is your friend, we will make everything be all right.'

I don't believe it. I don't think any of us do, really, but we have no choice. Anyone who argued didn't live long to argue much. The President is a powerful man, and there's nobody to fight against him.

He has a lot of blood on his hands, though he uses his underlings - SOLDIER and the Turks - as his gloves. I hate him and all he stands for, but I can't do more than stare blankly at his smiling face before I turn away from the window. I have places to go, and a worthless life to lead.

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Twenty-two years of mental tears
Cries a suicidal Vietnam vet
Who fought a losing war on a foreign shore
To find his country didn't want him back

Their bullets took his best friend in Saigon
Our lawyers took his wife and kids, no regrets
In a time I don't remember
In a war he can't forget

He cried forgive me for what I've done there
Cause I never meant the things I did

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The war was over a long time ago, but he couldn't let it go. I was a kid when it was going on, too young to pay attention to the news. If I saw some family crying, well... I lived in the slums. People cried all the time. It wasn't any different from the day before, or the month before, or the year before.

It hurt him still, I could see it when I sat with him in the bar. He'd nurse another bottle - I'd lose count, and I knew he wouldn't remember how many he had. But it was his only way of drowning out the memories, so I didn't argue. I guess I was just glad it's alcohol instead of drugs, though it's slim consolation.

He never told me all of what happened to him over on that little country that even now seems so far away. He saw people die, he killed people himself - and not all of them soldiers for the other side. I've heard him talking in his sleep when I let him pass out at my place, I've heard him scream and cry when he was too drunk or too asleep to know what he was saying.

I don't know why I stuck around him. He was just another fighter once, left to the slums when he became too useless for ShinRa to use anymore. I guess I felt sorry for him. He was a good man once, I remember him being a friend of my dad's when I was little. I guess... People have to stick together down here, even when one of them is falling apart.

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And give me something to believe in
If there's a lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, lord arise

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I've heard him say it more times than I can count. He lost his faith in ShinRa when they gave him a gun, aimed him toward women and children, and told him to do his job like a good little soldier. He hates what he did, he hates them for making him, and most of all, he hates himself for letting it happen. He was afraid of death, and knew they'd kill him if he protested, if he didn't follow orders.

'I should'a said no. Dying would be better than this.'

I hated to hear him say it, but I understood as much as someone who wasn't there could. And every time I heard those words, I wondered how long it would be before he took that last step. I wondered if I'd be able to stop him if I was around to try, or if I'd let him take the way out so many others took.

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My best friend died a lonely man
In some Palm Springs hotel room
I got the call last Christmas eve
And they told me the news

I tried all night not to break down and cry
As the tears rolled down my face
I felt so cold and empty
Like a lost soul out of place

And the mirror, mirror on the wall
Sees my smile it fades again

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I went to the funeral, of course. I wasn't the only one, though I was the youngest. The other half-dozen men who attended were with him in the war. I could see in their eyes the same thing I saw in his the last time we went out drinking, and I wondered how long it would be before they followed his example.

I was the closest he had to family, so I was the one they called when they found him. My number was in his wallet. I couldn't help but think how sad that was - that the son of someone he knew in another life was the only person he had left in this one.

It's hard for us slum-dwellers to trust people. Thievery and murder is more commonplace than smiles and handshakes. He trusted me, someone half his age. He came to me when he needed to talk to someone in hopes of easing his pain. I listened, of course - it's all I could do, but I did it as well as I could.

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And give me something to believe in
If theres a lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, lord arise

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'Dying would be better than this.'

His words echo in my head, even now, two weeks after his death. I realize he's right. What's the point, trying to survive in this place? I should go to work, but I can't bring myself to do it once I step out the door and get onto my motorcycle. I just drive, and try to lose myself.

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And give me something to believe in
If theres a lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, lord arise

Sometimes I wish to God I didn't know now
The things I didn't know then
Road you gotta take me home

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My eyes are red, and the road blurs. I have to stop crying, but I can't. I should be glad he's not hurting now, that he's gone beyond the reach of his memories.

But now, his memories are mine, and I can't forget.

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I drive by the homeless sleeping on a cold dark street
Like bodies in an open grave
Underneath the broken old neon sign
That used to read Jesus saves

A mile above live the rich folks
And I see how they're living it up
While the poor they eat from hand to mouth
The rich is drinkin' from a golden cup

And it just makes me wonder
Why so many lose, so few win

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As packed as the buildings are down here, there aren't enough places for people to live. I suppose it's a good thing that at least the homeless don't have to worry about the weather, just the cold, lack of food, and sickness from the pollution that can't escape.

I don't know how high the plate is, but it might as well stretch an eternity upward. Sometimes I wonder if this is the afterlife - up there is heaven, and down here is hell. That's where the wealthy and well-off live, and down here... Isn't. We're the dredges of society, the worthless ones.

I heard that when they began building the upper plate of Midgar, there were promises ShinRa made, of how it'd all be better, everything would be perfect, trust us, but it was all smoke, mirrors, and snake oil.

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And give me something to believe in
If theres a lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, lord arise

You take the high road
And Ill take the low road

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I climb the wall, moving from piles of junk to dangling wires, working my way upward until I can sit on the upper edge. We used to come here, my friend and I. It's the closest to an escape we could find from this hellish existence.

The view is beautiful, especially to someone who's never seen anything but the slums. Past the dirty, dead ground that stretches past Midgar's edge is green grass, and it extends farther than I can see. Somewhere in the distance is a mountain range, and over in the other direction is a sliver of blue - the ocean, I remember him saying once. It's the only place I can see the sky, so aching blue and pure, and clouds drifting by like promises, just out of reach.

I look at the heaven too far away for me to reach, and this time I don't try to stop the tears.

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Sometimes I wish to God I didn't know now
The things I didn't know then

And give me something to believe in.

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I know why it hurt so much to know I was the only one he considered family - because he was the same for me. Now that he's gone, I'm alone. Even when all I could do was listen to him wish he'd died in the war, we were still together, and I wasn't alone.

I can see in my mind the things he told me he did, that they made him do. I can see all the horrible things I've done, that I've seen done, that I've tried to ignore. The slums are hell, and I'm so tired of suffering.

I'm so very tired.

I'll see you soon, my friend.

With my eyes on the beautiful green and blue that's always been out of my reach, I pull the trigger, and finally the pain stops.